Witch Hunters
by Theodora Helena Miller
Summary: Merlin and Arthur meet Fisk and Michael. Uther sends the two knights and their servants witch-hunting, unaware that two of the four have magic. T for violence and mild in-character cussing. Humour for irony and dorkiness. Post season/book 3.


Out of all the idiots in the world, I had to be stuck with the one who seemed to bring trouble everywhere he went. This time Michael's bright idea was to go to Camelot. Not only were we foreigners, Michael had magica abilities. Anywhere but Camelot that might have been pretty cool, like the time he got pushed off a cliff and stopped his fall.

But Uther, the King of Camelot, had banned magic. And though Michael's Gift wasn't strictly magical or under his control, it was still illegal.

"What will it take convince you this is the worst idea you've ever had?" I asked, urging Tipple forward to catch up to Chant and Michael. Trouble nipped at my heels, making that rasping sound that was his attempt at a bark.

"'Tis a better idea than you running off to see your family without warning me."

"It's as bad as going after pirates. Except the law was at least _partially_ on our side then."

Michael sighed. "Are you ever going to let me forget that?" He asked.

"That you're unredeemed or that you paid for Rosalind to run off and have babies with a travelling player?"

"Both."

"Then no, definitely not."

I heard hooves and faint talking. Instinctively, I listened to the conversation and watched them out of the corner of my eye.

"I told you it was a bad idea." One rider said.

The rider in the front replied, "Merlin?"

"I know, shut up."

"First guess. You're not as stupid as you look. But believe me, you look _really_ stupid so that's not saying much."

"Prat." Merlin said quietly.

I grinned. There's nothing like meeting another "squire" with the same problems as me. As Michael had said way too many times, Camelot still had knights—so we wouldn't stick out.

"You there." Merlin's companion called to us. "What's your business in Camelot?"

So much for not sticking out. We'd already been pegged as foreigners.

"I'm Sir Michael, and this is my squire, Fisk."

I waited for the laughter, but there was none. Merlin ducked his head, watching intently as his friend rode up to us. "I'm Arthur. Prince Arthur."

Wait, what? I glared at Michael. He hadn't mentioned monarchs. I did not sign up for hanging around more knights. And the higher in social standing other people are, the less they tend to like a runaway-turned-renegade and his reformed criminal squire.

"I'm Merlin." Merlin said, scanning Michael with a scrutiny I didn't like. Surely it wasn't that easy to tell if someone had magic.

"Do you plan to stay in Camelot?" Arthur asked. "We could use more knights, if you can prove you're worthy."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, Michael, we might as well leave." I said.

Merlin laughed, earning a reproving glare from Arthur. Judging by Merlin's clothes, he was lower in rank than a squire. I guessed that he was Arthur's servant. Well, he would know a lot about how Camelot worked. There's no better spy than a person who's allowed to wander people's rooms with a cloth and is completely ignored by others. I would have to befriend him and figure out how things worked around here.

"Fisk isn't a very common first name." Merlin commented.

Michael turned and I started regretting the last few jibes. "It's his last name. His first name is Nonopherian. But most call him Nonny."

"By most, he means my sisters and him whenever he's angry at me. Isn't that right, Mike?"

Arthur flinched at the word sister. Good to know.

Michael turned the conversation to horses, and I dropped back to talk to Merlin. "And I thought Mike was annoying." I said.

"Arthur's alright once you get to know him." He replied. "But he does insist upon being a royal, arrogant prat most of the time. Michael seems a lot nicer."

"Just don't get him started on virtues."

Merlin laughed. "Good to know. He'll fit in with the knights here at Camelot. They're known for their honour code."

"Anything I should know about Camelot?"

"Well, are you aware that magic is illegal on pain of death?"

"Yes."

"Good. Tell Michael to be careful. I've got enough on my hands without proving another person innocent of practicing magic." He said, quietly.

Dammit, he did know. "Why Michael in particular?" I asked.

"Want me to spell it out nice and loud?" He snapped. Then he sighed. "Sorry. We're all in bad moods here in Camelot."

"Something to do with Arthur's sister?"

"Half-sister. Her name was Morgana. She took over Camelot and nearly killed us all with her immortal army. And then Arthur single-handedly saved Camelot once again!"

Sarcasm much?

"Well, look out. Michael and I save the day and leave a huge mess in our wake every time he latches onto a new adventure."


End file.
